


Making Choices

by Tarlan



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-28
Updated: 2004-10-28
Packaged: 2017-10-12 22:37:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both Logan and Scott are grief-stricken over the death of Jean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Choices

Although Professor Xavier had tried to inject a sense of normalcy into this new day by continuing on with lessons as if nothing untoward had surpassed, Logan felt as if his whole world had gone off kilter. All the possibilities racing through his head only a day earlier had been lost as the wall of water broke over Jean's body, sweeping her away even as the jet climbed to safety. She had made several devastating choices that day, first in letting him know that, despite the growing attraction between them, she had wanted Scott, and then by her decision to give her life for them all.

Until that moment, Logan had not truly believed that her first choice was final. He thought he might have been able to change her mind -- albeit slowly -- but now all hope of that was lost along with her life.

As he stepped out of Xavier's inner sanctum with Scott beside him, Logan felt the terrible grief radiating from the other man as a physical blow, and suddenly it seemed imperative to let Scott know that Jean had made a choice between them... and that she had chosen Scott. Some part of him had hoped this admission would assuage the doubt that accompanied Scott's grief but all he could see on the handsome face was hardness, and all he could read from the slump of Scott's shoulders was emptiness, as if the man had built an impenetrable wall of grief around him.

For the first time Logan felt at a complete loss, once more wishing Scott's mutant abilities had not hidden the man's eyes from sight. It occurred to him that part of his frustration with Scott stemmed from not being able to see his eyes, having grown too confident in those 'windows to the soul' as a way to gauge the emotions and intent of an enemy.

But Scott was not an enemy... just a rival for Jean's affections; a competitor who had won that important first round.

As he walked back to his room he considered the rivalry between them and how they had jousted both mentally and verbally... and how triumphant he had felt every time he managed to rake his claws beneath Scott's confidence and rile the man. But Scott was no wimp, giving back as good as he got from Logan by countering every attempt Logan made to dominate him.

Logan lay down on his bed and thought about the magnificent motorbike he had 'borrowed' from Scott, recalling how amazing it felt to ride fast and furious towards Alkali Lake with the knowledge of who would normally sit astride that glorious machine. Thinking about Scott while riding the bike had been more than just a power thrill, sending fire licking through his blood, enflaming his whole body. His lustful thoughts had turned to Jean at that time, though he felt confident enough to admit that Scott had hovered on the edge of those fantasies of him writhing naked with the beautiful woman -- as an unwilling voyeur. The same lust-filled thoughts had almost consumed him when he 'took' Scott's car during the escape from the school after Stryker's men attacked.

He frowned. With Jean gone, how would the dynamics of his relationship with Scott change? Already he had felt a shift -- at the moment of her death -- as Scott beat up against him in a desperate need to reach Jean, eventually collapsing against Logan's unmovable body in despair.

Logan wrapped his arms around his own body as he felt the phantom warmth of Scott's body pressed against him, suddenly confused by the conflicting sensations. How could Scott's heat sear him through the two layers of their black leather XMen uniforms? He could feel the weight of Scott's body in his arms and the burn of salty tears against his neck. He had held him tight, numbed by Jean's death as Xavier's confident, strong, right-hand man sobbed his heart out, leaving streaks of white salt from the tracks of his tears on the black leather of Logan's uniform.

Logan sat up abruptly and stared out the window, watching the transition as day fell into twilight, and seeing in it a reflection of his own changing relationship with Scott, caught between the past rivalry over Jean and...

And what, he thought. Where did they go from here? What common ground did they share now that Jean was gone? Or would the fact that they both respected Xavier be enough to keep them on the same side of the mutant equation as brothers-in-arms if not as friends?

Logan shook his head, feeling the start of a headache that had everything to do with the complications in his life and the fresh grief that still held him. He had loved Jean. She had given him the hope of belonging to something -- to someone -- rather than walking the mutant path alone.

He knew what it was like to be alone and, at the time, he had thought he was content with the way things were, until Rogue had run into his life and shown him that he was merely surviving rather than living. Even so, he would have continued on alone if her needs had not brought him to Xavier and Jean -- and to Scott.

"Damn it," he snarled as his thoughts returned full circle to Scott and the rivalry that could no longer survive between them now that Jean was dead.

"I need a drink." He spoke aloud, with part of him shocked by the roughness of his voice, only then registering the sting of tears in his eyes that he refused to let fall.

He pushed off from the bed and stalked from the room, heading through the sprawling building towards the little-used second kitchen, and then cursing as he recalled Bobby telling him there was no alcohol on the premises because this was a school. He did not expect to find anyone in there at this time of day as he had heard the dinner bell rung during the short walk and knew all the others would head for the dining room. However, he cursed under his breath anew as he caught sight of the forlorn figure seated at the table.

Before he could slip away unnoticed, Scott raised his head and stared at him from behind the ever-present visor. Logan frowned at Scott's less than graceful movements, his eyes dropping to the glass wrapped inside Scott's fingers and an open bottle of Jack Daniels standing close by.

"Thought there was no alcohol here."

Scott nodded towards the row of floor to ceiling cupboards lining one side of the room and Logan noticed that one door was ajar. He could see darkness beyond where he had expected to see shelves lined with groceries.

"Cellar," Scott slurred as he poured another overly generous measure into his glass, slopping some onto the kitchen table.

Logan shook his head in realization of the lie Bobby had told him and the reason why. Just as Scott had seen him as a rival for Jean's affection, so Bobby had seen him as a rival for Rogue's, not understanding that Rogue's love for him came out of gratitude rather than desire.

Without asking, Logan grabbed a clean glass from the cupboard and sat down opposite Scott. He reached for the bottle and poured a generous amount of the amber liquid into the glass, slamming back the contents in one swallow. He gasped as the alcohol burned down the length of his throat to settle uneasily in his empty stomach, but savagely he pushed away any inner concern over drinking without eating first. He refilled his glass and stared across the tabletop at Scott, almost daring the man to comment. Instead, Scott looked away... and they carried on drinking... and then they started talking.

-ooOOoo-

Logan cracked open his eyes and groaned as brilliant sunlight stabbed into them. He could feel the crispness of linen covering a firm mattress beneath him, and figured he had some how managed to get back to his room and fall into bed.

Or had someone carried him?

Cool air wafted over his body, making him realize that he -- or someone else -- had stripped him naked, and then he registered the extra heat draped over one side of his body, and the weight of an arm across his torso. At the same time he felt the tightness of dried semen as it itched against the flesh of his belly and chest, and he raked a finger through the sticky curls.

A memory from last night came back to him, of Rogue coming into the kitchen where he and Scott were drinking themselves into an almost companionable oblivion. Had he been wrong about her? Had her feelings been ones of desire rather than gratitude?

No, he thought. This could not be Rogue as he could feel the warmth of flesh on flesh, knowing that such contact was not possible with the mutant girl. Logan risked opening his eyes wider and stared at the arm draped over him, drawing in a sharp breath as he realized the arm belonged to another man. He turned his head and groaned anew as he recognized the dark mussed hair, and the darker visor concealing Scott's laser eyes.

What had they done?

It took only a moment for Logan to take stock of his body, feeling the languid aftermath of pleasurable sex pulling at his limbs and giving him such an incredible feel-good sensation; one he could not recall having experienced before, but then he had few memories to compare the sensation with. Still... what had they done? He had no inner burning of stretched muscles -- of being taken -- but could not rule out the possibility because of his body's amazing regenerative abilities.

He tried to recall what had happened last night, remembering snatches of conversation as he listened to Scott wallowing in misery over their loss. One moment of clarity caught at him as he recalled Scott saying his bed -- once shared with Jean -- was too big and too cold without a warm body lying beside him.

Which of them had made the first move to remedy that situation? And exactly how far had they gone?

The dried semen coating his lower body began to itch fiercer, and he wondered whose it was -- his or Scott's, or maybe both mingled.

What he did not feel was repugnance, and that shocked him. After all, he had been in love with Jean... hadn't he? His thoughts returned to those fantasies of making love to Jean while Scott looked on, all too aware that he might have misunderstood his own desires as he recognized that the focus had always been on Scott rather than on the woman in his arms.

He took a few shuddering breaths as everything fell into place. Yes... he had loved Jean, but not in the way he thought. He had loved her for giving him a new path to follow, for giving him hope of something better than the life he had been passing though until the day they met. In truth, what he had felt for her was the same as the emotions he had assigned to Rogue: gratitude rather than desire, and now she no longer stood between him and Scott, Logan recognized that all his desire had been aimed at the handsome man now draped over him.

In hindsight it was easy to see how he had denied his feelings for Scott, hiding them even from himself but did Scott feel the same way, or had he been merely a warm body to fill a cold bed in a time when Scott felt empty and alone?

Scott began to stir by his side, moaning softly as he stretched, unknowingly pressing the full length of his body against Logan and sending the most delicious sensations tingling from every brushed nerve ending. Logan could feel his body reacting to Scott, his shaft lengthening and hardening, arching up to brush against his belly as Scott's thigh wrapped over Logan's, pressing into his groin even as he felt the answering hardness of Scott's morning erection against his hip.

Scott grunted as if only just noticing the ache of ill-used muscle, and then he froze.

"Logan?"

Logan let out the breath he had not been aware of holding.

"Yeah."

Part of him cried out silently in loss as Scott moved away, even as another part wondered if the slight hiss of pain passing through the close-pressed lips held any significance. He rolled onto his side and watched as Scott almost fell from the bed in his haste to place a respectable distance between them, noticing the way Scott moved stiffly. Any attempt to stay aloof failed miserably as his memory supplied more half-forgotten images from last night and he recalled the feel of the perfect curves of Scott's ass as he buried himself deep between the ass cheeks, thrusting into the tight channel of heated flesh while Scott whimpered and moaned for more.

Deeper. Harder. More. More.

The words reverberated through him and sent fresh desire flowing through him like molten lava. Scott stood up with one hand dragging through his short, dark hair in confusion mingled with fear, and Logan let his eyes feast on the strong, muscular body revealed to him in all its glory. The generous lips, always so plump before now looked swollen, and Logan knew they had ravished each other; kissing, sucking, biting -- and loving -- every millimeter of flesh within reach of tongue and teeth and lips. He knew his own body bore no marks of their bruising passion, knew his own lips looked normal -- his mutant healing abilities becoming his curse -- and yet the memory remained, reflected in the beautiful body standing just a few feet from the bed, still caught in bewilderment and fear.

"Scott?"

His voice broke the spell that kept Scott frozen to the spot, and he could only reach out impotently as Scott grabbed the fallen sheet from the floor to cover his nakedness and then bolted to the door, leaving Logan with only the sound of receding bare feet slapping upon the wooden flooring of the corridor as Scott ran from him. Logan called out to no avail, and the silence left him with the certain knowledge that he could no longer remain in denial of the desire and -- dare he call it -- love that he felt for the man who had shared his bed last night.

He gazed around his room in uncertainty, wondering how he was going to be able to live with this new knowledge; his unrequited love for a man who was in mourning for another.

-ooOOoo-

"Scott? Scott?"

He looked up in shock, only just noticing the wheelchair and its occupant right beside him. How long had Xavier been seated there calling his name?

"I can sense confusion... and..." Xavier's eyes widened as he read the memories Scott had been unable to shut away, knowing he could not blame the exceptionally strong telepath for reading thoughts that he had been broadcasting so strongly.

Embarrassment flooded through him and he tried to rise, mumbling some abject apology as he sought to escape the Professor's anger. For what other emotions would fill the telepath after he read how quickly and easily Scott had betrayed a woman they had both respected and whom Scott had professed to being in love with only a few days earlier?

Xavier's hand snapped out and grasped Scott around the wrist, drawing him back to face his humiliation.

"No," the Professor whispered hoarsely. "You don't need to feel shame. She knew. You could hide it from Logan, and you could even hide it from yourself, but you could not hide it from her. Not at the end. She sensed it... and she sensed the love for you returned by Logan, even though he could not admit to it either. This was the reason why she stepped out of the jet. This was the reason why she gave her life to save us." Xavier drew Scott closer to him by the power of his mind. "To save *you*... and to save Logan. She loved you both so very much."

Xavier released his tight grip on Scott's wrist and sat back in his wheelchair, staring up at Scott with dark eyes filled with compassion.

"You have a choice, Scott. Keep on running... or go back and see where it could go from here, but whatever you choose... live your life to the fullest. Don't allow her sacrifice to be in vain."

Scott closed his eyes to shut out all the light, not wanting to see even the ghosts of people through his visor. Instead, his memory supplied an image of Logan's imploring face and stretched out hand as Scott backed away and then ran earlier that morning. The image cut deep into his heart and soul, and in that moment he knew he had only one choice to make for happiness. He reached out blindly and his hand was caught by Xavier and squeezed tightly in reassurance, then released.

-ooOOoo-

Logan had few belongings so it did not take long to pack them into the small backpack. He turned on hearing a soft footfall behind him, and sighed as Rogue stepped into the room. Her eyes were full of misery and he knew she hated to see him leave again so soon, but he had no choice. Without Scott's love there seemed no point in staying around just to torture himself with the unattainable.

"He just needs time, Logan."

He cocked his head to one side, and then realized she knew all about last night. His hazy memories recalled seeing her come into the kitchen -- with Bobby -- late in the evening while he and Scott worked their way slowly through the rest of that bottle of whiskey in some impromptu wake for Jean. Neither had been in the state to complain when the two would-be lovers joined them and, with a start, he realized that it had been Rogue who had suggested the solution to Scott's cold and lonely bed was sleeping in Logan's that night.

It had seemed such a great idea at the time, in the way all ideas seemed great to a drunken fog of a mind, plus the barriers had been well and truly down by then, making acceptance of the idea inevitable for Logan. But Scott had loved Jean... had been IN love with Jean... and no amount of time in the world could change that.

He turned away to place the last few items in his bag, and when he turned back he found Scott leaning against the door in Rogue's place.

"Is this your answer to every problem? Run away?"

"You didn't seem to have a problem with that solution earlier."

Scott winced as if struck, making Logan regret his words instantly. Savagely he thrust the last item in the bag but he looked up when the door was closed and the lock snicked, standing ramrod straight as Scott moved to the center of the room. He swallowed against a suddenly dry throat when Scott began to peel the layers of clothing from his body, slowly stripping until he stood naked before Logan. The bites and bruises stood out livid against his pale flesh, and Logan felt the heat rise in his body as his blood pooled southward, robbing him of sense as every cell of his body strained to enfold Scott's perfect frame in his arms.

He knew the choice being offered so silently.

Slowly he pulled off his shirt, revealing the vest soaked in the fresh perspiration of desire. He toed off his boots and yanked off his socks, then pulled the vest over his head until he stood before Scott bare-chested and barefooted. Scott took a step forward, fingers trembling as they reached for the zipper to Logan's denims and slowly lowered it, leaving the material gaping to reveal hard muscle covered in a down of soft, dark curls. He reached forward to muss Logan's hair, with fingers carding through the gel-slicked strands, teasing them apart before he closed the distance between them and brushed his lips against Logan's.

The touch was electrifying, and Logan could resist no longer as he pressed into the kiss, claiming the sweet territory for his own as he pulled Scott to him. His hands traveled down the lean and muscular form to grasp the swell of firm ass cheeks, drawing Scott against him to rub against the hardness at his still denim-clad groin. He moaned his intoxicated pleasure into the submissive mouth, maneuvering Scott around until he could push him down on to the bed, then he discarded his jeans before covering the naked flesh with his own and grinding his erection into Scott's.

Logan could feel a hand pushing between their close-pressed chests, and he gasped as fingers found a sensitive nipple, sending sparks of desire coursing through his blood as the peak was rubbed between thumb and forefinger. With one swift movement Logan pushed the strong legs back to reveal his prize already glistening with lubrication.

"That some mutant ability I've not heard of..."

"No... I'm a boy scout. Always come prepared."

Scott gasped loudly as Logan pushed inside in one firm thrust of his hips but Logan stopped as a single tear trickled from beneath the visor concealing Scott's eyes. He watched and waited as the ragged breathing smoothed. Stryker had called him an animal and Logan could not deny the urge to slake his lust inside the tight channel with long and brutal strokes, but Stryker was wrong. He had the choice to be an animal or be a man, and that choice mattered. He mattered... and so did Scott. So he waited, frozen within his burning desire for this man who mattered most of all to open his heart, body and soul and allow Logan in.

Strong arms gripped at Logan's straining biceps and a soft smile stretched the kiss-swollen lips. As Scott relaxed beneath him in total trust, the first tear burned in Logan's eyes, and as he swept them both to ultimate pleasure his tears flowed freely for the first time in his living memory.

THE END


End file.
